Assembling the Future
by all.I.want.to.do.is.fly
Summary: From the day she was born, Natasha Stark was a fire burning through the world. Brash and loud with genius level intelligence, she was the epitome of the future and everything Steve Rogers didn't understand. She challenged him, confused him, and somehow completed him. He just needed to get her to see it. AU Earth 3490.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Marvel owns the Avengers and all affiliates. I just play in the sandbox.

A/N: I really wanted to write something for Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark, partly because I love Steve/Tony in all incarnations and also because I think the Earth 3490 universe is just a cool idea. In this fic you will find a little bit of everything. Some comic-verse, some movie-verse, some random whatever-my-brain-decides-to-do-any-given-day stuff. So, without further adieu, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I liked writing this.

* * *

From the day she was born, Natasha Stark was a fire burning through the world. Brash and loud with genius level intelligence, she built her first engine at the age of 6 and her first robot two years later. She graduated from MIT with honors at 17 and stepped in to take control of Stark Industries at 21. Several years after taking over as CEO she had been kidnapped by a group of terrorists and created the Iron Man armor to be used by a bodyguard after she escaped captivity. The exact details of her escape were classified. Iron Man eventually became a member of the Avengers and Natasha Stark was a consultant that gave them all a place to stay and built them all a variety of different tech.

Steve Rogers knew all these things and more. He had read her file until he could practically recite it from memory and he looked her up on something called the Internet to find more information. That search however had only served to further confuse him between the gossip, newspaper articles, and videos that didn't give him any way to separate fact from fiction.

Their first meeting had confused him possibly more than anything else.

When she walked into the room he was struck by her looks at first: the black curls that fell just below her shoulders and her eyes that were so much like Howard's that it caught him off guard. Those eyes had flicked over him when Agent Romanoff had introduced him as Captain Rogers, something sparking in their depths.

The way Ms. Stark spoke reminded him vaguely of Peggy. He heard the tone of a woman who had to work to command respect because she was a woman in a conventionally male position. When she had first walked in somehow he had ended up tripping over his words while trying to thank her for pulling him out of the ice. He accidentally called her a dame and her eyebrows shot up before she burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Their first conversation was light, easy, and surprisingly fun, until Steve mentioned her father and watched as her dark eyes went blank and her smile became practiced and controlled. He wondered when and why she learned to smile that way. He hated it.

She left fairly soon after that and he worried that he had upset her. But, a few days later, a package arrived for him at SHIELD headquarters containing several pieces of Stark Tech and a note from Natasha herself promising that she would teach him how everything worked.

As the months passed, the Avengers were formed and Steve and Natasha clashed on several occasions. She hated following protocols and would consistently upgrade various tech without SHIELD approval including Clint's arrows and the Captain America uniform. She would also occasionally break into com-units during battles and give orders, although Steve had no idea how she always knew what was going on.

In spite of their arguments, they also became something like friends, at least as much as Natasha was friends with anyone. He would sit in her lab and sketch while she worked sometimes and they would talk. She taught him about computers and the internet as well as introducing him to 21st century television which he found fascinating (although not as much as Thor who was convinced that Star Wars was a documentary and there was someone inside the television set who changed the channels).

Steve also became friends with Iron Man, who, oddly enough, warned him away from Natasha. When he asked why, he was told that Natasha Stark was dangerous and unstable and that it would simply be better if he were to stay away from her. Iron Man provided Steve with detailed accounts of the Stark heir's self-destructive behavior, going so far as to say she was heartless enough that she used physical intimacy as a power play and nothing more.

Steve told Iron Man about how he would catch himself sketching her at random times of the day, how he didn't ever know what to say to her because she was so much more than her father but didn't seem to believe it. He talked about how he respected her abilities, admired her, sometimes wondered what it would be like to feel her lips on his, and yet he was confused because everything was different and new and he didn't know what he was feeling or if he even truly felt anything at all.

"Natasha Stark would rip your heart out, Cap," Iron Man said one night. "She probably wouldn't mean to, probably wouldn't even know she was doing it. But she would. Just trust me. You don't want to go there with her."

The end result of all these interactions was that after a year, two months, and sixteen days, Steve Rogers still had no idea what exactly to make of Natasha Stark. And then everything changed.

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A/N: Review? As a general note, I don't know how many chapters this is going to be. Currently I have 3 more written and no real end in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

A/N: In which secrets are revealed and Steve needs some time. Also known as the one where everyone finds out.

* * *

They all found out on a Monday.

The Avengers had been called in to take down some giant robot creation of Dr. Doom's. The creature was surprisingly easy to subdue…which, looking back, should have been a clue that it was a trap.

One minute Clit was joking that if Stark ever decided to become a super villain they might actually have a reason to be afraid of robots and the next, Steve's com-link was cut off and he was surrounded by what seemed to be hundreds of metal creatures armed with what appeared to be modified HYDRA weapons.

He took out as many as he could with the shield, but eventually one of them hit him with and energy beam that knocked him through a wall and landed him flat on his back, his shield some distance away.

Steve saw the weapons begin to fire and braced himself for the impact…but it never came.

Iron Man had flown in sometime during the chaos and protected him from the onslaught of the strange weaponry by taking the hits himself.

Steve watched as the armor lit up so brightly he had to cover his eyes and then saw the remaining robots fall after Iron Man fired a massive repulsor blast from the reactor in his chest.

In the aftermath, Steve got up, moving to thank his teammate only to end up catching the armor as it crumpled to the ground in front of him, the arc reactor flickering dangerously.

The rest of the team arrived then and Thor ripped the faceplate off of the armor when Iron Man failed to respond to their calls.

As far as Steve knew, no one outside of Nick Fury and possibly Agent Romanoff was aware of the true identity of Iron Man. So, when Natasha Stark was revealed to be the person inside the suit, the majority of the team displayed varying degrees of shock.

Steve recovered first.

"Natasha? Can you hear me?" He asked.

A groan was all he got in response before the reactor stopped flickering and Natasha opened her eyes. Upon seeing the team staring down at her, she coughed once, traces of blood appearing at the corners of her mouth before commenting in true Stark fashion, "Hi guys. In case you were wondering, yes, I am Iron Man."

Then she promptly passed out.

It turned out the blood had come from Natasha biting her tongue and fatigue was the main reason she lost consciousness. Regardless, she was still kept overnight in SHIELD's medical bay for observation, much to her irritation.

Steve hadn't seen her since she was brought to the medical bay with the exception of a brief moment when she first arrived where she had murmured something about how "it would have been worth it" before a nurse shooed him out of the room.

Natasha was Iron Man. Or Iron…Woman? He wasn't entirely sure what they were calling her now. Thor had wandered around for a while shouting to all that would listen about the bravery and honor of "Lady Iron" and comparing her to someone named Sif, but Steve wasn't sure that would necessarily go over well. Although it was certainly better than Clint's idea of Iron Girl, which was likely to get him injured if he ever actually suggested it to Natasha.

In general though, Steve really wasn't sure how to deal with the new information. He supposed it certainly filled in some of the puzzle pieces. Like how Natasha had actually escaped from the terrorist camp or why her outfits in photographs of her after her captivity appeared to be far less revealing than previously. She was trying to hide the arc reactor in her chest. And she had done a damn good job of it.

The more he thought about it the more Steve realized he was a little bit in awe of her. He had gained his abilities from a serum, but she had built the armor, at least initially, with her own two hands out of scraps of metal in the desert.

Of course, then he was also embarrassed. During the past several months, Iron Man had become his friend and they had spoken about many things, including Natasha. Steve felt himself flush as he recalled one memory in particular.

* * *

_It was late and Steve hadn't seen Natasha for the past two days. Although he hadn't been able to get a straight answer from Jarvis, he was fairly certain that she hadn't eaten or slept for most of that time so he decided to go down to the lab. What he found was not what he expected._

_Natasha was probably the least put-together he had ever seen her, grease marks on her arms and face, cursing as she threw various parts for…something around the room. There was a half empty bottle of what appeared to be tequila on the desk._

_She hadn't heard him come in, but she turned at the lack of sound when he caught what appeared to be a prototype of his shield after she tossed it over her shoulder. _

"_Steve!" She exclaimed. She started to walk towards him but stopped when she stumbled and caught herself on her desk chair. _

_Steve raised his eyebrows. Yes. Definitely drunk. _

"_What's wrong, Tasha?" He asked_

"_Why does something have to be wrong?" She shot back._

"_Because I've only ever seen you drink when there's something bothering you."_

_Natasha laughed but it sounded off to him. Bitter. _

"_I can drink whenever I want to Captain. Just because you're so good that it's beneath you doesn't mean we all are."_

"_You're not a bad person Tasha," he responded._

"_Am I not?" She wondered aloud. "Why don't we test that theory."_

_Her eyes locked on his, something dark flickering in them. _

"_Come here," she commanded. _

_Steve shot her a questioning glance but did as she bid._

"_Sit," she said, pointing to the bench next to her._

_He did._

"_So. You think I'm a good person Steve?"_

_He nodded, confused at her line of questioning._

_Natasha slid into his lap and he froze._

"_What would a good person do with Captain America? Would a good person do this?" She asked, running her lips down the side of his neck, her tongue flicking out to briefly taste the skin there._

_Steve's breath caught._

"_Or this?" She continued, taking his earlobe into her mouth before trailing her lips across his jaw._

_He wasn't completely sure what to do. He knew she was in no condition to be doing anything to this effect but it was as if he were paralyzed, completely unable to remove himself from the situation._

"_Or this?" Natasha whispered, so close that her lips brushed his as she spoke. And then her mouth covered his and he was lost._

_The kiss was light at first, but it escalated quickly. She sucked on his lower lip before sweeping her tongue into his mouth, entwining it with his. Steve broke the kiss, his mouth moving down the side of her neck. When he reached her pulse point he bit down lightly, encouraged by the sounds it elicited from his partner. This was unlike anything he had done before. There was a faint voice in the back of his mind telling him to do…something. But it was lost in the feel of Natasha's kiss as she brought his lips back to hers._

_Her hands ran down his chest, slipping under his shirt and she groaned when they met the heated skin of his abdomen. But when her hands touched him, the voice in his mind came through the fog and he forced himself to break the kiss, lifting her off his lap and back into her chair._

"_Tasha," he gasped._

"_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Natasha said, her eyes wide as she touched her fingers to her lips. _

_They hadn't mentioned it again that night and she fell asleep on the couch in the lab soon afterwards. Steve was fairly certain she wouldn't remember it, if the amount of alcohol she had consumed was any indication, but it stayed on his mind for weeks to come. _

* * *

They had kissed and whether she remembered it or not, he had told Iron Man about it and that was just…well he didn't know what to make of it or how to talk to her again without thinking about it.

As it turned out, he didn't have to say anything because when he returned to medical, Natasha was gone and he didn't see her again until nearly a week later when he realized that they had a lot more in common than he had initially thought.

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

A/N: In which Natasha just can't and Steve is in way over his head.

* * *

"Captain?"

Steve started slightly, still unused to the presence of computerized voices in the house.

"Yes, Jarvis?" He responded.

"If I may…I believe Madame Stark may require your assistance."

That caught his attention. As far as Steve knew, Jarvis wasn't programmed to seek out other members of the house unless Natasha specifically requested help. And if she had needed someone else it was far more likely for her to call Bruce or Agent Romanoff than him.

"Did she ask for me?" He wondered.

There was a pause before Jarvis answered.

"No. However, as I have been unable to resolve the situation, additional assistance is required. I believe you would be the most qualified member of the house at present to provide said assistance. I am afraid my protocols will not allow me to say much more."

Steve frowned at that.

"I'll do whatever I can. Where is she, Jarvis?"

"In her room, sir."

Steve walked to the elevator silently cursing the sheer number of floors there were in the Avengers Tower.

A number of situations ran through his mind before he reached Natasha's room, but he was surprised to find her asleep when Jarvis opened the door.

It was obvious, however, that her sleep was not peaceful. From his place in the doorway, he could hear frightened whimpers escape from her. Natasha was tangled in the blankets of her bed, one hand gripping the sheets at her side, the other clawing at the arc reactor in her chest.

"I could not wake her, sir," Jarvis said softly.

Everything made much more sense now. Of course Jarvis would go to Steve, the man out of time who woke up gasping and broke punching bags to escape his own nightmares. Somehow it had never occurred to him to wonder who else might be suffering from them as well.

A sharp cry from Natasha's sleeping form had him crossing to her bed, closing the door behind him in case of the unlikely event that anyone else walked by.

He looked down at her with increasing concern, trying to remember how to wake someone up from vivid, potentially PTSD related night terrors. If he remembered correctly, shaking the person awake was not recommended because they could exhibit violent tendencies before becoming aware of their surroundings.

Steve called her name, hoping it would be sufficient stimulation, but to no avail. When he saw tears begin to leak from her closed eyes, he decided he would rather risk an attack than continue to watch her panic.

He reached out and clasped the hand that was twisted in her sheets, unclenching it and entwining his fingers with hers. With his other hand he gently shook her shoulder and called her name once more.

Natasha's eyes snapped open and she wrenched her hand from his grasp, catching his arm with the nails of the hand that had been over the reactor. Well…nothing less than he had expected.

She was shaking, her eyes rapidly scanning the room.

"Natasha," Steve murmured softly.

Her eyes flicked to his.

"Tasha. It's me. Steve. You're in your bedroom, in Avengers Tower, New York City. It's 2012," he said.

"Steve? What are you…why are you in my room?" Natasha asked, one hand coming up to swipe at the remnants of tears on her cheeks.

"Jarvis…he, uh," he trailed off hoping he hadn't gotten the AI in trouble.

"I figured."

She sighed and dropped her eyes to the rumpled blankets, feeling uncomfortably exposed under his searching gaze.

"Are you…do you want to talk about it?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking her hand again.

Natasha choked out a bitter laugh.

"How much time do you have?"

He tipped up her chin with one finger, bringing her eyes back to his before replying, "I'll stay as long as you need me to."

They spent the rest of the night talking quietly in her bed as she relayed everything from her time in Afghanistan to the fallout afterwards with Obadiah Stane to joining the Avengers in disguise. They fell asleep around 5 AM and Natasha woke several hours later to arms around her waist and Steve's warmth at her back.

Quickly making a decision, she slipped out of the bed and grabbed some clothes before heading down to her lab. Once she was safely in the elevator she let out a breath and pressed her head against the cool metal.

"What would you like me to tell Captain Rogers, Madame?" Jarvis asked.

"Tell him…I'm very busy and should not be disturbed. And Jarvis…don't ever do that again."

She could have sworn she heard the AI sigh at that.

"Yes, Madame."

Steve woke to find the sheets beside him cool to the touch and a hastily scribbled note.

I can't. I'm sorry.

Well…he knew it wouldn't be easy.

* * *

Review?


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Avengers and all its affiliates belong to Marvel and the Mary Poppins reference is Disney all the way. Sandbox, guys. Sandbox.

A/N: In which Natasha has issues and Steve finally learns to dance.

* * *

When Fury had approached Natasha about organizing a charity ball she had almost laughed in his face. Instead she had agreed because, although she hated to admit it, it would be good for the Avengers as a whole to be seen in public outside of a hero capacity. When the night finally came though, she was deeply regretting that decision.

She hadn't spoken to Steve in a week with the exception of com-traffic during the one battle the Avengers fought a few days previously. It wasn't necessarily that she was avoiding him. After all, he was perfectly able to come down to her workshop where she had been holed up all week. (She disregarded the fact that she had changed his passcode and neglected to inform him). So she definitely wasn't avoiding him…much.

Mainly Natasha didn't know what to say to him. The night he came to her room and woke her from her nightmares, she told him so many things. Far too much, really. There were reasons she didn't tell people things. Oh, sure, she could fake her way through endless conversations, throwing out the barest hints of real facts to convince people they actually knew Natasha Stark. In reality though there were perhaps only two or three people in total that came anywhere close to truly knowing her.

Even for those people, Pepper, Rhodey, maybe Happy, personal information was hard-earned and in had taken years for Natasha to open up, With Steve it was easy and that was dangerous and simply unacceptable. It wasn't that she thought he would ever use anything she said against her. He was far too good a person for that. But it opened the door to other things and she didn't have enough data to play this game with him. She wasn't even completely sure there was a game to play.

Steve Rogers was an enigma to Natasha Stark and she hated it. She dealt in information, numbers, and formulas. The problem was, Steve didn't seem to want to fit into any of her algorithms for human interaction. Most people were easy enough to figure out. Men wanted her body, her money, her mind, and women just wanted to be her. As the female head of Stark Industries power was everything and Natasha played that particular game very well. All it took was a compliment, a touch, a kiss perhaps and she held all of the cards whether they realized it or not.

She didn't know what Steve wanted. Her data was limited. She knew he was attracted to her, but when she had kissed him, he had pulled away. She made upgrades to his uniform, designed punching bags that would withstand anything he could throw at them, gave him technology and a crash course in the future and he brushed everything off with a smile and a thank you. The conclusion she had come to was that he simply wanted her…just her.

That didn't make sense. She was flawed, incredibly so. In fact, she could probably list her faults for days and spend hours trying to come up with anything positive to say about herself. She was bitingly sarcastic, combative, pessimistic, drank too much, was far better suited to spending time with robots than people, and had so much blood on her hands she could barely stomach the thought of it. She became Iron Man out of guilt and a desire to fix the stain her weapons had left on the world not because she thought she was some kind of hero. Steve though…he was practically perfect in every way and he wouldn't even understand that reference.

She definitely wanted him as well; she could acknowledge that much. No matter which scenario she came up with however, the end result was always the same. There was very little doubt in her mind that Steve would accept anything other than a committed relationship from her and Natasha really couldn't see it ending well. It would be good for a while. They would fit into the role of a happy couple perfectly, the two leaders of the Avengers, the perfect team. The tabloids would have a field day. It would last for a few months, maybe even a year or so, but then she would do something, quite possibly without even meaning to, and then Steve would be gone and she would go back to hiding in her lab and pretending to be just fine.

Natasha Stark refused to be the woman who broke Captain America's heart.

There were some nights though, where she let the thought creep in that just maybe they could make it work, that she could have a relationship that wasn't about power, money, or manipulations. She was tired of the game.

Tonight was one of those nights and that was why she hated Nick Fury for convincing her to throw a stupid ball.

* * *

When Natasha swept into the ballroom of the tower, every eye in the room flocked to her. She looked stunning and she knew it, dressed to the nines in a gown of red satin that was high enough in the front to cover the arc reactor but left very little of her back to the imagination. Her hair had been twisted into some sort of up-do she had already forgotten the name of and gold shadow illuminated her dark eyes.

She quickly grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby tray and began the tedious process of mingling with various reporters and members of high society. After a while, she went to get another drink and finally ran into a more welcome face. Clint whistled as she approached.

"Looking good there, Stark. I like the dress. The color scheme especially is very subtle."

She smirked.

"You clean up pretty nice yourself, Barton. No purple tonight though? Shame. It really is your color," she shot back.

Natasha liked Clint. He and Thor were two of her favorite teammates, almost like the little brothers she never had with their collective maturity levels. She was fairly certain that Clint and Agent Romanoff were together in some way, but neither of them were telling and she certainly wasn't going to ask.

"Coulson didn't seem to think spandex and leather were appropriate outfit choices for this venue. What can you do? And speaking of people who clean up nice, our esteemed Captain hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you came through the door," he said, motioning to where Steve stood across the room.

She met his eyes and quickly looked away, ignoring the flutter the sight of Steve in full dress uniform brought to her stomach.

"You planning to talk to him tonight? Or are you still avoiding him and trying to make it look like you're not? Because, for the record, it's pretty obvious something happened between you two, and if you kissed or he confessed his ridiculously unsubtle love for you or something along those lines, I would love to know because then Nat and Bruce would owe me 200 bucks. So…what's the deal?" Clint rambled.

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to refrain from commenting on the fact that you all are apparently making bets on the state of my love life other than to say, no, nothing happened along the lines of what you seem to have come up with. And yes, I'm going to talk to Steve. I'm going to talk to him…right now in fact. I'll see you later Barton," she stated, taking another glass of champagne from a passing server and making her way to the other side of the ballroom.

When she reached him, Steve was unsuccessfully attempting to remove himself from the company of a reporter from Vanity Fair. She pasted on a society smile and interrupted.

"Ms. Everheart. How lovely to see you again. I'm sure Captain Rogers would love to hear all about the spread you're thinking of doing for him, I heard you did an excellent one on Justin Hammer last year. And the story was quite good as well. Unfortunately, _I_ am in need of a dance partner, so you'll have to chat more later."

With that, Natasha handed the fuming reporter her half empty glass and took Steve's hand, pulling him onto the dance floor.

"Thank you for that," Steve murmured softly. "For the record though, I don't know how to dance."

She glanced up at him in surprise.

"Well then," she said. "We'll have to do something about that then, won't we?"

She took one of his hands in hers and placed the other on her waist.

"Now, this is just basic stuff, alright? Nothing fancy, pretty much just swaying and turning. I follow you, so just move wherever feels right."

They swayed in place for a moment and Steve watched the other couples around them. The song changed and he pulled her closer. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the feel of his hand against the bare skin of her back and the heat radiating from his body. She could kiss him if she wanted to. It wouldn't take much, just an inch or two more. She swallowed hard.

"Can we talk?" He asked quietly.

No. That was a terrible idea. That road would most likely lead to questions she didn't want to answer about notes, empty beds, and avoidance tactics. She didn't want to talk to him, to look into blue eyes that were more honest and open than any others she had seen in her lifetime. She didn't want to confess the thoughts behind her behavior but Steve had a way of getting her to say anything. She didn't want…

"Yes," she whispered.

It was a small mercy that they managed to find an empty balcony without being waylaid by anyone. The night was cool and Natasha shivered as the air hit her skin.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, Cap. I'm just fine. What can I do for you?" She replied, turning to face him.

He frowned.

"Don't do that. The society smile and practiced responses. Please. And it's just Steve tonight."

Natasha sighed.

"What do you want, Steve?"

"You look tired and I haven't seen you all week. I can't say I understand why you've been avoiding me and I'm not expecting you to tell me but I just…wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I look tired? And to think Clint told me I was stunning. You sure know how to compliment a girl, Captain Rogers."

"Tasha…"

She cut him off.

"You may have noticed that we're not in the 1940's anymore. I'm not some helpless dame who needs you to fight off her demons like some knight in shining armor. I have my own armor for that, thank you, and I've been taking care of myself for a long time."

Steve's eyes hardened.

"You think I don't know that? Trust me, I am very much aware that you are perfectly capable on your own. I'm not trying to _save_ you, I just…"

He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

"I care about you Tasha. You are infuriating and reckless and you don't take care of yourself the way you should but I care about you. You don't have to let me in, but please stop trying to push me away because I'm not going anywhere."

Well that was just…Natasha didn't really know what to say to that. Thankfully she didn't have to formulate a response.

"Excuse me, Captain Rogers?" At the door to the balcony there was a female SHIELD agent who looked vaguely familiar to Natasha although she couldn't recall her name.

"Yes?" Steve responded.

"My name is Sharon Carter. I've heard a lot about you. Could we talk?"

Oh, right. That was why she looked familiar.

Steve shot Natasha a glance and she pasted a smile on her face, moving back inside with a cool, "He's all yours, agent."

She downed another glass of champagne once she was back in the main ballroom before deciding she had put in enough of an appearance and retreating to her bedroom.

A week later she started dating Tiberius Stone.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: This chapter contains mentions of depression/suicidal thoughts as well as variations on some movie dialogue. Summary: In which fights are had, decisions are made, and no one ever (really) listens to Clint.

* * *

Natasha swept into the tower, growling curses under her breath. When she reached the kitchen, she went straight to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of scotch before turning toward Clint and Bruce who were watching her with raised brows.

"If either of you need me, I'll be in my lab. If anyone _else_ asks, I'm not here," she spat icily.

Then Natasha left as quickly as she had come, resuming her litany of curses. After a moment Clint heard a door slam down the hall and winced.

"I wonder what that was about," said Bruce.

"I don't know, but I think I heard her say something about 'Captain Asshat' so it can't be good. Think mom and dad are fighting again?" Clint asked.

"Don't let them hear you call them that. Natasha makes your tech. But in all probability…yes, they're fighting again."

Clint groaned and let his head fall to the table.

"Seriously? Again? Can't we just lock them in a closet or something until they work out their issues? I feel like that would be the easiest thing to do."

They heard another door slam and a moment later Steve appeared at the kitchen door wearing what they had affectionately dubbed his "Captain face." Which, outside of Avengers business, was almost never a good sight.

"Have either of you seen Stark recently?"

Bruce shook his head and moved toward the door.

"I think I'm going to sit this one out," he said mildly, shooting Clint a glance before walking out.

And then there were two.

"Clint?" Steve asked.

"If I had seen Natasha, which I haven't, I would have to ask what happened to get the two of you so pissed at each other. And then I would suggest you give her a few days to calm down because, seriously Cap, going near her is not in any way a good idea right now," he rambled.

Steve narrowed his eyes at the archer.

"Jarvis? Where is Natasha?"

"I believe Madame Stark is in her private laboratory, Captain. However, I would advise against disturbing her at this time," the AI answered.

"Thanks, Jarvis. Clint, I'll see you later."

When Steve left, Clint rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?"

* * *

Natasha Stark was not having a good week. It started off well enough with the exception of a contract that had fallen through. But then, Pepper had sent her off to China of all places to meet with some SI shareholders and everything hit the fan.

China had been hell to say the least. Some villain calling himself the Mandarin decided that her visit would be the perfect opportunity to try and kill/maim/otherwise incapacitate her through several well-placed explosives and a hallucinogenic gas that was released into the air vents of her hotel.

As it turned out, the Mandarin was trying to draw out Iron Man. She fought him and eventually won in spite of the fact that he was using some sort of magical rings. Needless to say, her briefcase armor was completely trashed and she was pretty sure she had at least three cracked ribs and a fractured clavicle.

She was really starting to hate magic. And dragon tattoos. And Thursdays for that matter.

When the attacks started, Natasha had thought about calling the other Avengers for a little backup, but Fury decided that since the attacks were specifically directed at her any appearance of a group of American superheroes would likely spark some kind of international incident and requested she deal with the situation herself.

Of course, when she was escorted to SHIELD headquarters upon her return for a debriefing and waltzed in looking more than a little worse for wear, Steve hadn't exactly let her explain any of that.

"_Big, strong woman in a suit of armor. Take that away and you're only human. You can't risk your life like that Natasha!" Steve shouted._

"_Oh, and you're so much better than I am? Because you're what? A man? Captain America? News flash, Rogers, you're a lab experiment at best. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."_

_She regretted the words the second they came out of her mouth. Steve hid the hurt on his face quickly but not fast enough to fool her practiced eyes. _

_He glanced down at a sheet of paper in his hands._

"_Natasha Stark, codename Iron Man, is hereby suspended from field work until such time as medical personnel clear her for active duty," he read aloud._

"_You can't do that!" Natasha exclaimed._

"_Actually, as the leader of the Avengers, I think you'll find that I can. Agents will be here shortly to escort you to the medical bay. I'll take you home after you've been treated."_

_Then he left the room before she could say another word._

_After that she went to the med bay, but only stayed long enough to have her injuries assessed and taped up before grabbing the Mark V suit she kept at SHIELD and flew herself home._

_By the time she arrived she was still fuming, in quite a bit of pain, and desperately wanted a drink. One thing was certain, is she saw Captain America anytime soon, she could not be held responsible for her actions._

* * *

When Steve arrived at her lab, Natasha was lying on a couch in the corner with a drink in her hand and glaring at an unopened bottle of painkillers on the floor.

She heard the doors open and cursed as she realized she had forgotten to change his passcode again.

"Jarvis, you traitor," she grumbled. Then she raised her voice and called, "Not in the mood, Cap. If you wanted to go another few rounds you'll have to give me a few hours. Or I could go put on the suit if you'd prefer."

She heard him sigh but didn't look up.

"You left SHIELD and flew home alone and injured after taking on a super villain with magical powers all by yourself. I was worried. I will admit I may have overreacted a bit…"

Natasha cut him off.

"You kicked me off the team."

Steve shook his head.

"I removed you from active duty until your injuries have healed. I didn't _kick you off the team_."

She scoffed.

"I'm fine."

"You're not. And from where I'm standing, it looks like every time you've put on the suit lately you've come back a little less fine. In the past month you've risked your life to save every member of the team at least once and I can't figure out if you're actually suicidal or you really think you're that expendable."

At that she glanced up at him and met his eyes before looking away quickly. He sucked in a breath.

"Tasha…you're not…"

"I'm not suicidal, Steve. A few years ago…maybe. But, I promise, I'm not anymore."

"Jesus, Tasha. Why didn't you ever…you never said anything."

"I've told you before, I'm not a good person. There were times in the past where I thought that maybe the world would be a better place if I wasn't in it. And when I was dying of palladium poisoning, well…that's a very painful way to go."

Natasha brought her eyes back to his.

"In case you were wondering, no, I never actually tried, unless you count the drinking. I just thought about it. I'd get low. You know, when you're a genius it's quite easy to calculate the velocity of a bullet or the exact number of pills it would take. I would do it without even thinking about it sometimes."

Steve's face was unreadable and when he spoke his voice was quiet.

"Do you have any idea how many people care about you? How many people would be devastated if you just…weren't here one day?"

"I'm starting to figure that out. But, see, you have to understand that it hasn't always been that way. Why do you think I do everything myself? Because I'm not used to being able to depend on anyone else." Her voice was matter of fact and she could practically see the agitation rolling off of Steve in waves.

"But, your family? Friends? Lovers? There can't have been no one…"

Natasha sighed. This was why she never wanted to have this conversation with him. Of all the things she wanted from Steve, his pity was certainly not one of them. She looked away again.

"My mother didn't know what to do with a daughter who was more interested in robots than dolls, my dad was a great man but wasn't exactly father of the year, and his business partner, who I thought I could trust, tried to have me killed and then almost succeeded in doing it himself after that failed."

"Where does everyone else fit into that?" He wondered.

"Well, I met Pepper when I first took over Stark Industries and Rhodey around the same time after I received some new contracts from the military. But it took months, years even, for me to actually trust them with pieces of myself."

Her hand came up and touched the arc reactor, watching the light dance over her fingers.

"Any other relationships were…well, I learned very quickly that everyone wants something and most people aren't against feigning romantic attachment to get whatever that is."

"That's awful," he commented and when she glanced up, the look on his face was one she had often seen but not usually in regards to things she said. It was a combination of surprise, anger, disappointment, and a hint of bitterness that usually came across his features when he was faced with some of the darker aspects of human nature.

Natasha shrugged.

"My heart was a mosaic, Steve. Hard stone with cracks to separate the pieces and each piece had a different name attached. Then I got older and it was ripped out altogether and replaced with metal. I don't know how to come back from that. I don't know if I can."

"You're not a robot, Tasha."

"You think so?"

"I really do."

They stayed in her lab talking for several more hours before the exhaustion of the week took hold and Natasha fell asleep. When she woke the next morning, she was in her bedroom, a glass of water and the prescribed dose of painkillers for her injuries on the nightstand.

She also found a note from Clint in her shower.

_I wanted to lock you and a certain someone in a closet until you both stopped being idiots, but Bruce and Nat shot down that plan. Thor, on the other hand, was completely for it. However, in case that wouldn't have gone over well, I'll say what we're all thinking. Just kiss the man already and put us out of our misery. Please. Preferably within the next month._

_P.S. In case you were wondering, he's not dating Agent Carter. Just thought I'd share._

She broke up with Tiberius later that day.

* * *

Review?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still own nothing…

A/N: Sorry about the wait. Life decided to happen. Just as a heads up, this is almost the last chapter of Assembling the Future. The final chapter is already written and should be posted within a few days of this one. I don't have plans to write a sequel as such, but I do have ideas about a separate story of "deleted scenes" so to speak which should be started…eventually.

As a general note, Coulson and Clint tend to refer to Natasha as "Stark" due to the fact that both of them were acquainted with Black Widow first and more than one Natasha running around can get confusing. This in no way signifies a lack of affection toward our heroine.

Without further adieu, here is Chapter 6, aka the one with movie nights, confessions, and Clint confirming suspicions.

* * *

Natasha and Steve didn't start dating immediately. As a matter of fact, it took another six months and one near-death experience on Steve's part for Natasha to actually say anything after Clint's little push.

Which is not to say they didn't start taking steps in that direction. They went to dinner, charity events, musicals, plays, and a number of other things that caused Clint to argue that he deserved to win the bet on principle because they were dating even if they weren't acknowledging it.

Somewhere along the line they began having movie nights, during which Natasha took a great deal of pleasure in educating Steve on the last seventy years of film and television history. Movie nights started out just the two of them but eventually the rest of the Avengers joined in and it became a tradition for everyone to gather in the den on Monday nights.

Unsurprisingly, Steve wasn't a fan of most things involving time travel, but he loved older movies as well as several of Natasha's favorites including Star Wars (the original trilogy) and the Lord of the Rings series.

On one particularly memorable night, Clint (although Natasha suspected Coulson was behind it) had somehow scrounged up several of the old Captain America films from WWII and Steve sat on the edge of the couch blushing profusely but smiling good-naturedly at their running commentary.

It struck her one day when they were all gathered around the television that this group was perhaps the closest she had ever gotten to a real family. They were a crazy bunch, and incredibly dysfunctional when one took into account Clint shooting at random objects, Coulson threatening to taser them all when the paperwork piled up, Thor being Thor, and Bruce and Agent Romanoff just taking everything in stride.

But still, somewhere between explosions, supervillains, shwarma, and Natasha's late night experiments (that rarely turned out well), they had gone from a ticking time bomb to a family. A family that she and Steve were, as the leaders of the Avengers, essentially the heads of. Surprisingly, she loved it.

What Natasha enjoyed the most however, was the time she and Steve spent alone in her lab. Sometimes they would talk, but typically they sat in comfortable silence while she worked and he sketched, simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Then there were the nights when she would wake up gasping, tears drying on her cheeks and would more often than not wind up in his room until morning. It was an unspoken agreement that they didn't talk about those nights or what they meant. There was just something a little too personal about the feeling of safety and comfort that came from Steve's arms around her for that.

One night she asked why it was always warm in his room and as soon as the words left her lips she realized she should have known the answer.

"I don't like the cold. And it helps sometimes, when I wake up to know…" He trailed off but Natasha could hear the words he hadn't said regardless.

_That I'm not frozen in ice. That the year is 2012 not 1941 and the echoes of voices in my head aren't real._

They never slept alone after that and if the other Avengers noticed, no one ever commented on it.

In spite of everything though, they still didn't talk about their relationship, mainly because Natasha still didn't know how to bring it up and Steve wanted her to process everything in her own time. But when Captain America took a hit meant for Iron Man and ended up with a magic spear embedded in his stomach, she couldn't help but tell him everything.

* * *

After being hit, Steve was taken to the medical bay and when the team arrived they were ushered out to give the doctors more room to work. After several hours they were instructed to go home, but in light of their extremely vocal protests they were allowed to remain in headquarters as long as they didn't crowd medical. Instead, they gathered in a nearby conference room, silence dragging on.

Natasha was still wearing the armor and she stared down at her hands, unable to tear her eyes away from the flecks of dried blood that covered them.

Steve's blood.

The chair beside her shifted as someone sat down.

"It's not your fault," Clint muttered lowly.

"Why would he do something like that? After everything he's said to me about unnecessary risks in the field he goes and….I could have…"

"No, you couldn't have. Or at least you don't know for certain that you would have survived a hit like that. Your armor's pretty incredible but it's not completely impenetrable. He took a risk, betting on the fact that his accelerated healing would save his life if he saved yours. He would have done it for any of us."

He sighed.

"It's not your fault. Because, trust me, I've been exactly where he is right now for exactly the same reason. Even if the woman you love can take care of herself, that's not always going to stop you from trying to protect her."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at that confession, asking a silent question.

Clint smirked.

"One word. Budapest."

Agent Coulson came in after that and informed them that Steve's injuries were recovering quickly but he was still unconscious.

"Can we see him?" She asked.

The agent paused before answering.

"At the present time medical personnel feel it would be best for Captain Rogers to remain undisturbed. However," his eyes met Natasha's, "if one of his teammates happened to find their way to his room, I'm certain something could be worked out."

"I don't suppose you know where his room is?"

"If I did I would likely have been instructed not to divulge that information. Although, an interested party may find what they're looking for in the second room to the left of the nurses station."

"Thanks Phil," Natasha breathed, moving toward the door.

He stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"He's a good man, Stark." And the subtext of that statement rang loud and clear in her ears.

_If you hurt Captain America, I will end you._

She met his eyes steadily.

"I know."

_Trust me, I won't let that happen._

Phil nodded and released her. After that she rushed to the medical bay, stopping only briefly to remove her armor.

When Natasha reached Steve's room she inhaled sharply at the sight of him in the hospital bed, tubes and wires everywhere.

He was pale and incredibly still, the faint rise and fall of his chest and the beeping of the heart monitor her only reassurances.

Hospitals made Natasha uncomfortable, hence why she never allowed herself to spend significant periods of time in them. They were impersonal and the overly sterile smell burned her nose and made her feel ill. They also reminded her of death.

But this was Steve, America's golden boy, who rescued kittens from trees and helped little old ladies across streets (she had seen him do it) because he was just that good of a person. He would be fine. She needed him to be fine, a fact which no longer terrified her the way it used to.

Natasha didn't know how long she sat by his bed in silence, but eventually she took one of Steve's hands and began to talk.

"I'm not really one for declarations, God knows you know that. But I'm kind of making one now I guess. Um…I'm really bad at this. I think if you were awake you might be laughing a little at exactly how bad I am at this, except you would try really hard not to let me see because you wouldn't want me to feel bad about it."

"You know, Phil was telling me that you're a good man. And I know that. Honestly, you're probably the best man I've ever known. But you see, Steve, I've know good men before and I've known bad ones and every kind in between. Somehow the end result has always been the same: me, sitting alone in my lab with a bottle of whatever was the most convenient. So, I don't need you to be a good man for me. I just need you to be here. And be mine."

"Because the thing is, I've been in love with you for quite some time now, and I can't promise that things will be perfect, that we won't fight or I won't hide out in the workshop for days and forget to eat, etcetera, but I want to try. And it's been a really long time since I've wanted anything like I want this. So I need you to wake up so I can actually say these things to you and also chew you out for being an idiot and landing yourself here in the first place."

"I love you, Steve Rogers. And I'm not going anywhere this time."

"I love you too, Tasha."

She snapped her head up to see Steve's eyes on her, clouded from sleep and morphine but open nonetheless.

Natasha choked out a laugh.

"How much of that did you hear, soldier?"

He smiled. "Enough. Pretty sure I got the most important part."

"That you're an idiot? Because that was a pretty important part."

"I think someone's been a bad influence on me. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"You're impossible."

"I know. Kiss me?"

"Always."

* * *

A/N: Phew. So they're together. As I said in the previous note, there is one more chapter that has already been written and should be up soon. Thank you all for sticking with me through this ridiculous journey.

For being such good readers, here's the summary for chapter seven:

In which there are multiple proposals, Coulson knows everything, and nothing ever goes according to plan.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them. I really do.

A/N: So…here's the last chapter. If you are still reading and haven't run off because of my clear insanity, I thank you and hope you enjoyed it. As mentioned in the previous chapter, I have no current plans for a sequel, however I will most likely post some "deleted scenes" of sorts at some point as a separate story. If anyone has any requests, feel free to PM me or leave it in a review.

Here we go!

Chapter Seven: In which there are multiple proposals, Coulson knows everything, and nothing ever goes according to plan.

* * *

Steve had a plan, really he did. Of course, with Natasha, very few things ever actually went according to plan so he probably shouldn't have bothered.

It happened in the workshop. Natasha was on the phone with Director Fury and growing more irritated as the call went on while Steve was sitting calmly in the corner watching her and trying not to laugh. She hung up abruptly and started ranting about the man in question, hands waving around wildly as she spouted off the reasons why she couldn't (didn't want to was more accurate) build his latest toy.

Steve thought it was adorable, although he would never tell her that, and somewhere between the specifics of repulsor technology and Natasha's list of reasons why she hated Fury, the words just slipped out.

"Marry me."

She froze.

"Um…what?"

Well. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. But the ring was in his pocket, so he pulled it out and got down on one knee.

"Natasha Stark—"

"No."

"No?"

"No! Why is there a ring? Why does there have to be a ring?" She muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Well, because I'm asking…"

"No, Steve. _You_ are not asking me to marry you. Because _I_ didn't have a ring, but I had a plan. A good plan. An _excellent_ plan, really, involving an art gallery and dinner and a number of other things that were supposed to happen less than _five hours_ from now."

The sting of her refusal began to wear off as something more akin to amusement took its place. He wasn't completely sure what was going on in her mind but he thought he might be starting to understand.

Steve watched her for a moment as she paced in front of him, lips twitching upward at her frustrated mutterings.

"Tasha," he began.

She cut him off once more.

"Steve, I am a pain in the ass. I don't eat when I should, or get nearly enough sleep. I'm stubborn and I hate being wrong, and I still don't follow orders or play well with others. But for some crazy reason, you're here and you make me want to be better. So, I suppose what I'm trying to say is, I love you. Marry me?"

Steve couldn't help himself. He laughed.

Natasha's eyebrows shot up.

"Uh, Steve? Not that I don't enjoy being an endless source of amusement, but in this case I'm not entirely clear on what's so funny, so if you could maybe use your words…"

He kissed her.

"Or you could do that. Sure. So is that a yes?"

He shook his head still chuckling.

"Tasha, you ridiculous woman. Of course it's a yes." And at that he kissed her again.

When Natasha pulled back, she was breathless. In true Stark fashion however, as soon as she could she was speaking again.

"I'm sorry. You had a ring, but I had a plan and I really wanted to stick to at least part of that. Speaking of the plan though, it really was quite a good one, but," she pulled him into another hard kiss, trailing her hand along his waistband before breaking away.

"I think I'd rather stay in tonight," she finished, a wicked smirk on her lips.

* * *

No one saw them again until the following afternoon when they strolled into the kitchen together, smiles on their faces and a ring on Natasha's finger.

Clint groaned.

"Really guys? You couldn't have waited another two days?" He asked pulling several bills from his pocket and passing them to Agent Coulson.

"And how do you always know?" He directed toward his former handler.

The agent shook his head, a brief twitch of his lips the only betrayal of his amusement.

"You should know by now that I know everything, Barton. Everything," he shot back, counting the money in his hands.

"Clint, you realize that no one else bets against Coulson, right? It's kind of pathetic to watch him take your money," Natasha said, holding back a laugh.

"Shut it, Stark," Clint grumbled.

She grinned.

"Now, now, don't get your quiver in a twist or I won't ask you to be my maid of honor."

Clint's head shot up from the table and he fixed her with a glare.

"You messing with me, Stark?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the look as Coulson and Steve quietly slipped out of the room.

"You're not kidding."

She shook her head.

"Why? And trust me, I'm refraining from making all sorts of jokes about me and maids and honor right now."

She laughed.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you. In all seriousness though, I don't really have very many friends and your ability to be as unsubtle as a brick is part of the reason Steve and I got together in the first place."

She paused and smirked.

"Plus, with you, I'm pretty much guaranteed one hell of a badass bachelorette party and your taste in decorations and style is surprisingly good, purple leather and spandex not withstanding."

Clint grinned. "Hell yeah it is. Alright. You've got yourself a deal."

Later that night, Steve asked her, "So, why Clint?"

Natasha smiled.

"This team is just about the closest thing I have to family besides Pepper, and she's planning her own wedding so I'm not going to ask her to help plan mine. Clint's awesome and kind of like the little brother I never had and when I thought about it I just…couldn't see myself asking anyone else."

He pulled her closer and muttered, "You know he's going to be incredibly embarrassing in his speech, right?"

She laughed.

"He wouldn't be Clint if he wasn't."

* * *

It should be known that Natasha Stark was never one for weddings. It wasn't that she was opposed to them on principle, just that when faced with the realities of gift registries, cake tasting, flowers, and dress shopping, she just wanted to throw up her hands and drag Steve off to Vegas.

Regardless of her feelings on the subject though, she and Steve did finally finish planning the ceremony (with a not insignificant amount of input from Clint and the other Avengers).

Therefore, Natasha Stark was not happy, not happy at all to have her wedding crashed by Loki and yet another alien army (she really didn't know where he kept finding new ones) as she was walking down the aisle.

As battles went, it was over fairly quickly, which was only to be expected when one decided to attack a gathering comprised almost solely of superheroes and SHIELD agents. But her dress had gotten trashed before she managed to get into the armor (although remarkably her veil remained intact), sweat was dripping down her face inside the Mark VIII, the justice of the peace was hiding under a table, and Steve was standing in a corner surveying the destruction and shaking his head in incredulity.

She flew over to him, flipping up the faceplate as she landed.

"Hey, Cap."

He looked at her and let out a short laugh.

"Still want to get married today?" He asked.

She shrugged.

"I've got a veil if you have the rings."

"Phil has them."

"Well then. Let's get hitched, soldier."

It was fitting in a way, that they were married in full Avengers regalia. When it was over, Steve dipped Natasha and kissed her long and deep, leading to wolf whistles from some (Clint) and tears from others (Pepper).

It was her favorite picture from the day, their first kiss as a married couple. Steve Rogers and Natasha Stark, Captain America and Iron Man, flawed and brave, building any kind of future they could for themselves while fighting to save the world for everyone else. And most of all, forever knowing that whatever dangers lay ahead, they would always stand together. Because they were worth it.

* * *

A/N: And that's all folks. If you've seen the comic panel of the Earth-3490 universe with Steve and Natasha's wedding, that's what most of this chapter was based off of.

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